Going For A Slay Ride
by Jedi Buttercup
Summary: Add in some possible demon killing on the side, because this was her, and... yeah. Just what Eliot needed under the tree this year.


**Title** : Going for a Slay Ride

 **Author** : Jedi Buttercup

 **Rating** : PG-13/T

 **Disclaimer** : The words are mine; the worlds are not.

 **Summary** : _Add in some possible demon killing on the side, because this was her, and... yeah. Just what Eliot needed under the tree this year._ 1000 words.

 **Spoilers** : Season 4ish for Leverage; post-series for B:tVS

 **Notes** : For pixieinthedark, who asked for: "B:tVS + Leverage, Buffy and Eliot spending Christmas together :)". Trying a new take on framing this crossover pair. Originally posted to LJ on August 7.

* * *

Eliot breathed deep of the brisk evening air as he walked out of McRory's, tucking his hands in his jacket pockets against the falling temperature. It didn't look like they'd be getting snow anytime soon, but he wasn't as young as he used to be; the chill damp had a way of biting deep into oft-abused muscle and bone.

It had been a pretty good day, for the most part; the job had gone well, the client had gone home content, and there'd been no unnecessary drama. He'd even come out of the inevitable fist-fight uninjured. If not for Cora pointing out the date on the calendar when she'd started to lock up, he'd probably be in there yet, basking in the satisfaction of a job well done. But it _was_ that time of year, and when Hardison had started teasing Parker about holiday plans... well, he'd decided to bail before his good mood had a chance to go sour.

For all that Nate and Sophie liked to tease Eliot that he was only with the women he dated long enough to remember them by occupation, he actually _did_ know every one of their names. He treated each one like a princess when he was with 'em, to the extent they even _wanted_ to be treated that way, and made damn sure they all knew what the score was before the clothes started hitting the floor. There were even a few he'd seen more than once; the ones who could take everything he had to give, but had their own reasons for not expecting anything more.

Eliot was just fine with who he was, which was _not_ any kind of significant other material. But that didn't mean it didn't frustrate him sometimes when the gears suddenly shifted from five members of a team to two couples and their fifth wheel. If he _was_ wired for relationships, he might've tried to turn one of those pairs- either one, he worked with some damn gorgeous, fascinating people, though Nate's possessiveness of Sophie probably would've become an issue- into a threesome long since. But it was what it was, and he could suck up and deal.

Best thing for all of 'em would be for him to take a side job over the next week, give the others plenty of time to toast each other and open presents or whatever shit they usually did when Christmas rolled around and there wasn't any pressing need to steal Santa. Something short, sweet, and satisfying; or- maybe even a job for two? He'd been turning the idea over in his mind for a few days already; at least one of his other friends was already in state visiting her sister, a petite blonde hitter who specialized in all things esoteric and claimed to hate holidays at least as much as he did. She had a complicated romantic history of her own from what he'd gathered, a burnt twice thrice shy kind of thing, and had been 'between boyfriends' as long as he'd known her.

He thought about it a little more, contemplating a room for two at a B&B the team had dug out of hot water, mixed in with a hunt for a rare book he'd heard rumors about. Add in some possible demon killing on the side, because this was her, and... yeah. Just what he needed under the tree this year.

Eliot slipped his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number from memory.

"Summers," she answered on the third ring. Buffy was maybe seven years his junior, but you wouldn't guess it from her brusque command voice.

"Hey, darlin'," he drawled warmly in reply. "You got any plans for the holiday?"

"Eliot?" Her voice shot up a register with surprise; he could almost hear the sudden smile under the words.

"The one and only."

"Thank _God_ ," she enthused. " _Please_ tell me you have a line on a retrieval; if I stay here I'm going to end up cooking for twenty and probably fending off Fyarls with Dawnie's tea service, and then she'll kill me for denting the good silver. It's been that kind of year."

"So you've said. Think she can spare you for a few days?"

"Please, she'll probably say a prayer of gratitude the minute she catches me packing my bag, especially once I reassure her that I won't be around anyone who can't handle the fray adjacency of my holiday curse. She's got two littles under four now; she'll welcome me back after New Year's with a mound of apology-presents, then rinse and repeat a few weeks later when my birthday rolls around."

Luckily, Eliot had broken his babble-meter on Parker and Hardison before he met her; experience with his team had conditioned him to take it as a sign of trust and affection, and he got the impression she meant it the same way, if not entirely consciously.

"I'll take that as a yes," he chuckled. He hadn't actually met her sister's family, no reason to, but he'd heard enough stories by now. "You're already packing, aren't you?"

"So many weapons, so little room in my suitcase. So what kind of job d'you have in mind? You know my area of expertise."

"Remember when you told me your people would pay well for any book on their wanted list? Got a line on one of the top ten. Art thief type, likes to brag, possible demon connection."

Buffy took a sharp breath. "Book for Giles, action for me; you sure know how to tempt a girl."

"Don't forget, action for me too," he said, gruffly. "Merry Christmases all around."

"Don't sound too pleased with yourself or anything," she chided him; but he could hear the curl of answering heat in her tone.

He chuckled. "Know that coffee joint three streets over from the bar?"

"Yeah, I know it," she agreed. "I'll be there in forty-five."

"See you there," Eliot replied, and hung up with an anticipatory smile.

-x-


End file.
